


Movie Night

by skyhillian



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: First Time, M/M, POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-02
Updated: 2013-04-02
Packaged: 2017-12-07 07:41:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/746008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skyhillian/pseuds/skyhillian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Things have been changing between Hotch and Reid for a while now. When Jack is away at a weekend sleepover and Spencer comes over to watch a movie, things change even more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hotchsexual](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hotchsexual/gifts).



_Aaron Hotchner PoV_  
  
  When you enter the small kitchenette in the break room, Reid is already there, filling up his fifth cup of coffee. You watch as he methodically pours in three teaspoons of sugar and two peel-cups of creamer before beginning to stir it counter-clockwise. When you set your mug down next to his, he jumps slightly, roused from his coffee-making ritual.  
  
  "I still don't understand how you can do that to a perfectly good cup of coffee," you muse, and Spencer lifts the cup to take a sip. A small smile graces his face.  
  
  "I like things sweet," he responds, and you chuckle as you pour in not even an eighth of the sugar he had.  
  
  "So I noticed." You stir your coffee for a moment to make sure everything is dissolved before looking back up to see Spencer still watching you as he sips his coffee. You're not completely surprised. Over the past several months, things have been changing between the two of you. You're not all too sure what to make of it. The change had started gradually when the two of you started having dinner every Tuesday night, starting after a particularly grueling case. Next came the movie nights on Friday with Jack, and then came the lingering touches, the lingering looks. You honestly do not know what to do.  
  
  For one, you're Spencer's superior, his boss, and any relationship could be seen as you trying to wield your position over his head. You're also sixteen years his senior. You're quite positive that if Spencer wanted to date a man, he would choose someone much closer to his age range.  
  
  An odd expression must have crossed your face, because Spencer reaches out and touches your shoulder in a silent question. _Are you okay?_ His hand lingers several seconds longer than necessary. You clear your throat and smile.  
  
  "Jack isn't going to be home this weekend," you tell him, and he frowns slightly. You hurry to reverse the look on his face. "If you'd like to still come over for movie night, we can watch whatever you would like to," you offer. He bites his lip as he thinks about it, and you have to look back into your coffee cup or risk reaching out to smooth his lip away from his teeth.  
  
  "I could bring Chinese?" Spencer proposes, but it comes out like a question. You smile.  
  
  "Are we going to be using chopsticks?" Spencer's eyes narrow. You chuckle and pick up your white coffee mug that is emblazoned with four-year old Jack's messy green hand print on it. You pat Reid's shoulder and head back to your office. You're not sure how you're going to be able to focus enough to get through all of your paperwork.

\---==---==---==---

You're quite surprised when you manage to finish your paperwork and get out of the office by seven. Spencer has left already, and you're slightly disappointed that you won't be able to walk out with him. You bristle slightly at the feeling and shove it back down. _He's going to be coming over in an hour anyway_ , you remind yourself.  
  
  When you get home, you set your briefcase down next to the credenza near the door and toss your keys into the bowl that sits on top. You slip off your shoes and begin to declothe on your way to the shower.  
  
  You spend five minutes longer in the shower than you usually do, allowing the hot water to loosen your tight muscles. You're not overly fond of the days where you only do paperwork. After a few hours, your neck begins to protest from being bent over your desk for hours, scribbling on reports. When the water begins to chill, you climb out and dry yourself off. You slip on a pair of worn jeans and a t-shirt and leave your feet bare.  
  
  While you wait for Spencer, you grab a beer from the fridge and settle down in front of the television. Halfway through a re-run of _Law and Order_ , there's a knock on your door. A quick peek through the peephole shows you a slightly fidgety Spencer. You undo the deadbolt and swing the door open. He raises a plastic bag emblazoned with a Chinese symbol.  
  
  "I made sure to get extra sesame chicken," he says as he steps into the apartment and slides his feet out of his Chucks without undoing the shoe laces. You don't say anything, even though you're itching to. When Jack pulls the same move, you make him undo the shoe laces or he'll mash down the backs of his shoes when he goes to put them back on the next time. Instead you thank Spencer for getting extras of your favorite dish and head towards the kitchen.  
  
  "Would you like anything to drink?" you ask him as he begins to set the pints of food on the coffee table next to your Guinness bottle.  
  
  "A beer is fine, thank you," he tells you, and he crumples up the take out bag and tosses it in the trashcan next to the television, which is still playing _Law and Order._ When you re-enter the living room, Spencer has already divvied up the food into a group of your food and his food. You set his beer and a fork down in front of him and sit down. When you open your chopsticks and rub them together to prepare them for use, Spencer watches you intently.  
  
  "I don't understand how you manage to eat with those," he says, picking up his fork and twisting his Lo Mein noodles around it. "It's like trying to forage for dinner with a pair of—"  
  
  "—number two pencils, yes, I know," you finish, and he frowns petulantly. "You're just over-thinking it, Spencer," you tell him, and he blinks at you owlishly for a moment. You don't call him Spencer very often, and every time you do, it seems to come as a surprise to him. "They're just chopsticks, not a math problem."  
  
  "But you have to figure out how much pressure you can apply while at the same time maintaining your grip on—" You raise an eyebrow, and Spencer stops what would have quickly become a tangent about the probabilities of dropping your food whilst using chopsticks. He blushes slightly and you smile before taking his pint of noodles out of his hand and setting it on the coffee table. You take his right hand in yours and position the chopsticks so that the bottom chopstick is held almost like a pencil, laying across his middle finger and the space between his index finger and thumb. You move his thumb into position to hold the lone chopstick there. You have him hold the second one between his thumb and index finger.  
  
  You've been told that you hold chopsticks slightly wrong. You're also adapting from using them in your left hand to helping Spencer use them in his right, but as long as he can eat with them, you don't really think it matters. "Okay," you say, removing your hands from Spencer's. They shake slightly but still a moment later. "Now use your index finger and thumb to only move the top chopstick, and pick up a piece of chicken." You hold out his container of pineapple chicken. He bites his lip as he dips the chopsticks into the container, and he struggles for a moment before he manages to wrangle a piece of the glazed meat. He beams. "Now eat it," you remind him.  
  
  He manages to get a bite off of it before it falls back into the cardboard cup, but he grins. "I did it!" You take back your chopsticks and he reaches for the fork on the coffee table that you brought out with you.  
  
  "Now you can say you've eaten with chopsticks and you never have to deal with them again." He hums happily as he continues to eat his Lo Mein. After a few minutes of silence, you look around, noticing that he hasn't brought his own movie with him. "Did you bring a movie?"  
  
  Spencer finishes chewing before he answers. "No. I figured that we could watch something from your collection." Your eyebrows raise in surprise. The two of you usually watch something of Jack's before popping in one of Spencer's _many_ sci-fi movies. You had just assumed that Spencer would bring another one of his sci-fi flicks.  
  
  "Is there something in particular that you wanted to watch?" you ask as you finish off your rice. He shrugs.  
  
  "I'll look through your DVDs once we finish eating," he says, and you nod. It doesn't take more than a few minutes for the two of you to finish off the end of the Chinese food. You offer to take the empty boxes into the kitchen, if only to have something to do while Reid is bent down, scanning your vast array of DVDs.  
  
  When you come back into your living room a minute later, you pause. The Harry Potter theme is filling your living room, and you're honestly not sure what to do with this.  You sit down on the couch. Spencer is curled up around the remote at the other end of the couch, watching the opening of the movie intently.  
  
  "Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone?" you ask, incredulity evident in your voice.  
  
  "I've read the books but I never got around to seeing the movies," he says. "Now shhh." He waves his hand slightly in your direction. You shake your head.  
  
  "Why are you sitting all the way down there?" Spencer squeezes the remote with both hands, and you quickly shut down the images that involve those long, nimble fingers wrapped around something else. Spencer mumbles something that you can't hear and scoots over to the couch cushion that is separating you two.  
  
  You're not quite sure why you asked Spencer to sit closer. Sure, you'd probably know the answer if you allowed yourself to ponder the question, but doing that would cause all sorts of problems. You just tell yourself that you're used to the couch being full of you, Spencer, and Jack on movie night, and having the large space on the couch is strange.  
  
  Spencer is enjoying watching the movie, and you're enjoying watching Spencer. He's so engrossed in the world of Hogwarts that he hasn't noticed that you've been watching him instead of the film for the past ten minutes. Every now and then, his hands tighten on the black television remote, and he bites down on his lip. Three minutes ago he had shouted, "Nicholas Flamel, you idiot!" and you had barely managed to contain your laughter. Spencer has leaned closer to you since he moved closer, and you don't know whether he's done it on purpose or subconsciously. Either way, you don't really care because you can smell his cinnamon shampoo and feel the heat radiating off of his body. Because he's sitting with his legs crossed, every time he shifts, his leg brushes against yours.  
  
  It's starting to become a problem. You're wearing jeans and you're positive that if he were to look, he would be able to see the bulge that is forming in your jeans. You excuse yourself for a glass of water because you finished off your beer when you finished your dinner.  
  
  You've just put your glass on the counter when you feel a presence behind you. You turn around to find Spencer, barely a foot from you. Your breath hitches in your throat. He's chewing his lip with gusto, and again you want to smooth it away from his teeth lest he damage the pretty pink skin. He's staring at his feet, and his head is down. His lashes throw shadows across his high cheekbones.  
  
  "Spencer?" you ask, slightly worried that something is wrong. He looks up at the sound of his name and you only have a split second to think before his mouth presses to yours. You want to pull him flush to your body and slide your fingers into his hair, but your brain seems to have short-circuited. You cannot think, you cannot breathe, you cannot even move. All you can do is feel, and _God_ , there is so much to feel, even though the kiss lasts only seconds. The press of Spencer's wet lips to your dry ones, the heat accumulating between your two bodies. The unexplainable feeling at _finally_ kissing Spencer Reid.  
  
  The kiss doesn't last nearly long enough. Spencer pulls away, and you suck in a breath through your nose. You can only describe the look on his face as sheer terror. He turns on his heel and bolts from the kitchen, and by the time you manage to get your wits about you and hurry into the living room, he's trying to mash his feet into his Chuck Taylors, which are still tied. He's muttering furiously.  
  
  "—fired for sexually harassing my boss. I'm going to have to move," he says, still trying to force his left foot into the shoe. "Dammit!" He finally gives up and picks up the sneakers, and makes to open the door handle. You grab his wrist and spin him until he's facing you, and you press him up against the door of your apartment.  
  
  You know that he can feel the now very prominent erection that you are sporting in your pants by the way his eyes widen. "H-Hotch," he stammers out before you press your lips against his once more. He is still for only a second before a quiet sound rises from his throat and he drops his shoes on the ground next to you. You cup his jaw and he digs his fingers into your t-shirt near your waist. When he licks at your lower lip, asking for permission, you groan quietly and pull back.  
  
  Spencer's lips are slightly swollen, and his pupils are dilated with lust. His face is flushed and he's breathing hard. He licks his lips, and you hold back a quiet noise. "You're not going to be fired for sexually harassing your boss," you tell him. Your voice is huskier than usual, and you're breathing hard as well. Spencer grins and leans in to kiss you again. You gladly accept.


	2. Chapter Two

_Aaron Hotchner PoV_  
  
  You slide your hands from Spencer's hair and finger the buttons on his tailored vest, silently asking permission. You can feel Spencer's chin brush the top of your head as he nods while you kiss his neck slowly. You unfasten the five buttons on the black vest quickly and slide it off his slim shoulders. The article of clothing makes a quiet sound as it lands on the floor.  
  
  Reid rolls his hips against yours and you groan into his neck. There is absolutely no way that you are going to be doing this standing against your front door, so you grab his hand and pull him down the hallway towards the master bedroom. Spencer stumbles slightly but follows along. You're not expecting Spencer to push you onto the bed and climb on top of you once the two of you are inside of the room. He kisses you again, and it's bruising but you could care less. Everything is warm and Spencer's lips are soft and the way his tongue curls around yours _just so_ makes tingles of fire shoot into your toes.  
  
  Spencer slides his hands underneath the hem of your t-shirt and brushes your skin. You shiver. His thumbs rub light circles against your stomach while he kisses and nips along your jaw. "I didn't expect you to be so aggressive," you say quietly, your words wavering slightly. Spencer hums and sucks lightly on the juncture of your neck and shoulder and your hips rock upwards of their own accord. A low groan escapes your throat when Spencer bites down softly on the same spot. It's the most sensitive part of your neck and you've come to believe that every nerve ending in your body is attached to that simple place.  
  
  When your hips rock upwards the next time, Spencer pushes his down to meet yours. You both moan and repeat the action. "Too many clothes," you choke out, and Spencer rucks your shirt up to your armpits. You sit up enough for him to pull it over your head. It's tossed somewhere on the floor. You begin to unbutton his purple dress shirt. Getting the small buttons through the holes is difficult because your hands are shaking. You manage to get through most of the buttons before you growl in frustration and pull the rest of the shirt open. The three remaining buttons pop off and skitter across your hardwood floor.  
  
  "I liked that shirt!" Spencer protests as you push it off of his shoulders and throw it over the side of the bed.  
  
  "I'll buy you a new one," you promise as you drag the blunt head of your thumb nail across his left nipple and he gasps. You're slightly surprised at how fit Spencer is. Because of how thin he is, you and everyone else always expected that he was just skin and bone, but his abdomen has a layer of lightly toned muscle. He's still extremely skinny, but he's beautiful.  
  
  Spencer leans down and kisses you again before shifting his hips so that he can move off of your pelvis. He kisses his way down your jaw and neck, pausing to nip at the erogenous zone on your shoulder. You bite your lip to hold in the noise that desperately wants to escape. By the time he's pressing kisses to your stomach, studiously avoiding the scars from Foyet because somehow he _knows_ that it will upset you, you realize what he's preparing to do.  
  
  "Spence—" he cuts you off with a _shhh_ before he presses butterfly kisses to the waistline of your jeans. His hands are shaking slightly when they pop the button on your denims and pull down your zipper. You lift your hips to allow him to drag your pants off, and they slip off of the bed and onto the floor with a quiet _clank_. He palms you through your boxers and you thrust against his hand. When he mouths at the quarter-sized wet spot on the front of your grey boxers, you moan loudly.  
  
  Your breath hisses between your teeth as the elastic of your boxers scrapes over your erection as Spencer pulls them down and over your legs. You're not even paying attention to where the clothes are going anymore now that you're naked and fully exposed in front of Spencer, who (unfairly) is still wearing his jeans and underwear.  
  
  Spencer wraps his hand around your cock and squeezes lightly before beginning to move his hand up and down. Your fingers dig into the sheets at your sides and you bite down on your lip. He twists his hand slightly and you thrust into his hand. You're wholly unprepared for Reid to lean down and lick a stripe along the underside. You gasp loudly and have to resist thrusting into his mouth when he wraps his lips around the head and sucks deeply.  
  
  " _Oh, God,_ " you moan. Spencer swirls his tongue around the crown and then begins to bob his head. Your back arches slightly and you moan again. It's been _years_ since you've been given a blowjob. Haley was never particularly fond of oral sex. She didn't like to give or receive it, and you haven't had a blowjob since the early years of your marriage for that exact reason.  
  
  You're pulled out of your thoughts by Spencer swallowing around your cock, which is touching the back of his throat. You can't stop your hips from jerking upwards, and Spencer chokes slightly. He pushes down on your hips to hold you still and he pulls back to give more attention to the head. "Sorry," you mumble. He hums in response and you moan again. "Where did you learn that?"  
  
  Spencer looks up at you, and your cock comes out of his mouth with an obscene _pop_. "Practice," he says nonchalantly, and you shiver at thought. You take a second to get your breathing back under control before rolling the pair of you over so that Spencer lies underneath of you. It takes you a moment to unfasten his belt, but when you do, you unbutton his jeans and unzip them. You groan quietly when you begin to pull down his denims because you've just found out that Spencer Reid goes commando.  
  
  You help Spencer shimmy out of his jeans and he kicks them onto the floor. The belt makes a loud metallic sound as it hits the floor. You kiss Spencer slowly, and a slow fire builds up and spreads along your body. When he sucks lightly on your tongue your hips cant forward and your cock brushes his. He moans into your mouth and you smile against his lips.  
  
  Spencer whimpers quietly when you move off of him to fumble in your side-table drawer. Your hand closes around the bottle of slick and a foil condom wrapper and you drop them on the bed next to Spencer's waist. You kiss his neck slowly, dragging your teeth across the sensitive flesh every now and then, delighting when it drags a quiet whimper from his mouth.  
  
  "I've never done this before," you say quietly between kisses.  
  
  "Just go slow," he tells you.  
  
  You give him one last kiss before sitting back and opening the lube and pouring a liberal amount of the viscous liquid on your fingertips. You rub it between your fingers to make sure it's warm before leaning down to kiss Spencer's hips. You slide a pillow underneath him and he spreads his legs. You continue to press kisses to his hips and the tops of his thighs while you press your index finger against his perineum. Spencer inhales sharpy and you slide your finger back until you find the small furrow.  
  
  After rubbing circles over it for a minute, you _slowly_ press your index finger past the muscles. Spencer breathes deeply through his nose and wiggles his hips slightly. You don't stop kissing his skin, which is quickly becoming covered with a light sheen of sweat until your knuckles brush his bottom. You begin to move your finger slowly in and out. You're not really sure how you're going to be able to stand this. There is so much heat and tightness around your finger and you can't possibly fathom how you'll be able to fit your cock in there.  
  
  When Spencer starts making quiet noises, you remove your finger and add more lubricant before adding a second digit. When you crook your fingers, Spencer shouts loudly and arches off the bed. You go to remove your fingers, fearing that you've hurt him, but Spencer lifts his head and looks at you. His pupils are blown and his face is flushed. "Don't you dare," he threatens. You chuckle and continue to thrust your fingers in and out. By the time you get to three fingers, he's rocking up to meet them.  
  
  "Please," he asks. His voice is pitchy and his fingers are dug into the sheets so hard you're not sure if he'll ever be able to extract them. When you remove your fingers, a quiet whine escapes from his throat. You fumble with the condom wrapper for a moment before you get it open and roll it over your erection. You coat yourself with more lube just to be safe before settling between Spencer's thighs and pressing the tip of your cock against his stretched entrance.  
  
  "Are you sure?" you ask in a sudden bout of self-doubt. Spencer growls quietly.  
  
  "Fuck me, Aaron."  
  
  You bite your lip and push in agonizingly slow. You watch as Spencer's face contorts slightly. His skin is covered with a sheen of sweat, and his skin is flushed all the way to his chest. His head is tilted back, causing the tendons in his neck to become more pronounced. You bend down and kiss his neck, and his pulse beats like wings against your lips.  
  
  Your hips finally meet the backs of his thighs and you have to steel your resolve so that you don't begin thrusting. The pressure on your cock is indescribable and you can barely think. When he rolls his hips against yours, you pull out slowly and everything is _warmthclosenesstightness_ and you're trying your hardest to go slow.  
  
  "I'm not going to break in half," he says, and you finally give in to the urge and you thrust forward. Spencer moans loudly and twists his hands in the sheets. Your hips snap back and forth of their own accord, as if you have no control over your body. Your hands are holding onto Spencer's hips hard enough that you know he will most likely be bruised, but you don't really think he minds at the moment. At some point you manage to change your angle and you know you've hit his prostate when his back bows and he shouts your first name.  
  
  Words are flowing from Spencer's mouth in a nonsensical jumble and you're honestly not sure if what he's saying is even English. Half of it sounds like Russian, and the rest might not even be a language at all. The only words you manage to catch are _Aaron, yes,_ and _God_. You're not quite sure where Spencer's body ends and yours begins, but you couldn't really care at the moment because Spencer shouts your name and comes across his belly. The tightening of muscles around your cock is nearly unbearable and you give two last shallow thrusts before you call out his name as well. You see spots behind your eyelids for a moment.  
  
  You carefully slide out of Spencer, and he winces. You remove the condom and tie off the end before getting out of bed and heading into the bathroom to dispose of it. You bring back a damp washcloth and wipe off Spencer's stomach. You bunch up the cloth and toss it on the floor before rolling over to face Spencer, who is still lying on his back. His left arm is draped across his face, and he's breathing hard. The room is is silent except for the sounds of heavy breathing.  
  
  You drape you arm across Spencer's waist and kiss his shoulder softly. He lets his arm fall back on the bed and he turns his head to look at you. Carefully, you brush his hair out of his face and kiss him. It's not hard or demanding, but it's just as passionate as the others you've shared tonight. "Sleep," you tell him, and bury your face against his shoulder.  
  
  You couldn't be happier.

**Author's Note:**

> •I looked at the proper way to hold chopsticks on a diagram and I don't hold them that way so I just wrote the way I hold them. If I can eat with them, I figure there's nothing wrong.
> 
> •I have never seen HP: SS on DVD so I don't know if Hedwig's Theme plays on the DVD menu but I'm GUESSING it probably does.
> 
> •This is the first time I've written Criminal Minds in this length, so if it's slightly out of character I sincerely apologize.


End file.
